


How Mallory Learned To Stop Worrying And Accept Their Relationship

by releasetheglitch



Series: When We Start [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Misunderstandings, abuse tw, because of potentially triggering language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/releasetheglitch/pseuds/releasetheglitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mallory sees something he wasn't meant to see and becomes concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Mallory Learned To Stop Worrying And Accept Their Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> For those worried about the tags, please check the end notes for more information. Thank you!

As the head of one of the most powerful organizations in Great Britain, there was really no reason why Gareth Mallory should have had to perform errands like an overworked intern. Yet there he was in the middle of his lunch break, hunting through what was unofficially dubbed the MI6 catacombs for a file that H-branch was apparently too incompetent to find on their own. The whole lot of them ought to be replaced with golden retrievers.

 

He turned the corner and groaned mentally. Bond was there, crowding the quartermaster against one of the shelves. Wasn't that just bloody adorable. Now he was missing lunch, dusty and sweaty, and had to bear witness to the PDA between MI6's resident "it" couple. Mallory was just about to bark at them to get back to work and to refrain from shagging in old storage rooms when Bond drew his hand back and slapped Q across the face.

 

The blood in Mallory’s veins turned to ice as Q’s face flew to one side, a red mark already blossoming lividly. Dumbly, he stood there watching as Bond grasped the other man’s hair in a fist and shoved him, bent over, onto a narrow table. “Gonna teach you a lesson,” he could hear the growled words, and shuddered at the poorly concealed tension in them. For his part, Q didn’t do anything but keen softly, didn’t try to fight back or struggle against the other man. And how could he? Bond was a head taller and at least twice as wide as he was. He was a mere mouse before a panther. Helpless.

 

Heart beating rapidly, Mallory made his escape, hardly able to believe what he’d seen. Bond and Q had always seemed like the perfect couple, as much as they got on his nerves. Q-branch practically swooned every time Bond stopped by to pester the quartermaster. The technicians who read back the transcripts when Q was in charge of one of Bond’s missions were inevitably a delicate shade of green at the end, unable to cope with the incessant flirting. Never in his wildest dreams would he have suspected that Bond was mistreating his partner in any way.

 

As much as he’d have liked to slam the door open and command Bond to step away, if he’d interfered then, he knew for certain that Bond would not be pleased and could very well kill him or Q before any help arrived. He didn't even have a weapon with him. No, if he was to help their quartermaster out of the abusive relationship he was apparently trapped in, he would need to be much more subtle than that.

 

_Hang in there, Q._ He thought determinedly. _MI6 takes care of its own._

 

Over the course of the next few days, Mallory watched carefully. Observed.

 

There were small tells, barely noticeable unless one knew what they were looking for. But they were there. It was in the way Bond clasped a hand, possessively, over the quartermaster’s neck and flexed his fingers subtly when he thought no one was looking. It was in the way Q would wince minutely as he sat down some mornings. How he never rolled the sleeves of his cardigans up.

 

Mallory knew that he couldn’t confront Q about these things directly. If he was too direct, Q would deny everything out of shame or fear. Besides, there was no point in upsetting the poor man even more. With that in mind, he called Q into a private meeting.

 

"Please come in, quartermaster." he tried to keep his face placid as the other man walked in, not wanting any sign of pity to be visible on his face. Q looked suspicious, and just the slightest bit annoyed. His hair was messy and there were tea stains on the edges of his sleeves. He'd obviously been buried in a project when he'd gotten the summons from Mallory.

 

"Sir, really, couldn't this wait? I'm in the middle of a highly sensitive hardware recalibration for double-oh five's upcoming mission to Macau."

 

"It can wait." the quartermaster's well-being was more important than making improvements on a weapon Hemley would just lose on his first day into the mission, in M's opinion. "Would you like some tea?"

 

Q looked at him like he'd gone mad. "No thank you."

 

Right. This was going well. Belatedly, M wondered if he should've called down one of the MI6 psychologists to help him speak to Q. Well, too late for that. Besides, Q would probably high-tail it out as soon as he saw them.

 

"I've been noticing some concerning things about your behaviour lately," he began hesitantly, not knowing what to say. "Is there anything you would like to discuss with me? Anything troubling you? I promise anything you say here will be confidential."

 

Q's eyes narrowed. "If this is about my work hours, I'd like to point out that being responsible for the safety of an entire nation is a very demanding job, and it's perfectly reasonable for me to take a day off now and then to unwind. My branch is very competent, I assure you."

 

"No no, that's not it. Your dedication to your work is exemplary. No one doubts that," M rushed to reassure the now offended-looking genius sitting across from him. "Err, so everything's well? No... _outside_ causes of stress?"

 

"Last week a bloody imbecile of a taxi driver nearly ran me over," Q remarked dryly.

 

M suspected that his anxiously flapping hands were not helping him recover any modem of authority, and Q just continued to watch him with a confused look. "How's your relationship with Bond?"

 

Oops, that was rather blunt. Thankfully, Q didn't question it. "Double-oh seven? We are rather well, thanks for asking."

 

"Are you positive?" M asked desperately. "I know what he gets like after a particularly intense mission. He hasn't...done anything questionable?"

 

Q really did roll his eyes then. "If you're referring to the fact that he's as randy as a goat dosed up on Viagra and overpriced scotch, then yes, I'm quite certain I can manage him. Besides, I thought our sex lives weren't any of MI6's business?"

 

Mallory examined his face closely for any signs of lying. No dilated pupils, no awkward fidgeting or eyes darting back and forth. Frustrated, he leaned back with a sigh. "Alright then, Q. As you were."

 

He stared with despairing eyes as Q left the room. How was he supposed to help the man if he wouldn't let him?

 

Another week passed, and for Mallory, it was high time he took action. Just yesterday, Q had showed up to work with a slight limp and spent the entire day at his desk, hardly moving unless it was to use the loo. M couldn't let his employee suffer knowingly, especially not one of the most valuable men in the country. His plan was simple. Break into their flat, confront Bond with a weapon, and extract a traumatized quartermaster and bring him to safety. He hadn't been willing to stand up to Bond back in the storage room, but now he would right that wrong.

 

As the head of MI6, it was almost laughably easy to break into Q and Bond's flat. He had the override codes for all of their security systems. Invasive? Perhaps, but it was a great help when an agent was trapped in their home with an assassin on the warpath and backup squads were delayed by pesky locks and traps.

 

M fingered his weapon absently as he shut the front door of the flat as quietly as he could manage. There didn't seem to be the usual signs of abuse in the place. No broken furniture or dishes or upturned photo frames. In fact, the small flat was homely and inviting, lit dimly with soft lights and the remains from dinner still on the table. Bond and Q were nowhere in sight and Mallory was just about to investigate the branching hallways when he heard sobbing from the bedroom.

 

Fuck, seems like Bond had gotten started already. Seeing red, Mallory stormed into the room with his gun drawn.

 

The scene he walked in on was just as bad as he'd feared. Q was naked and chained to the bed while Bond stood above him, a whip in his hand. Q's face was red and he had tear marks dripping down his chin. There were livid raised marks all over his body and what looked like a band of leather around his throat. _A collar_ , his mind supplied helpfully. Bond, the bastard, was dressed immaculately. Bearing down on his victim like some sort of avenging angel.

 

"Double-oh seven, hands in the air!" he barked loudly, steadying his gun right into the man's incredulous face.

 

"Why the fuck are you in our bedroom?" Bond had dropped the whip onto the bed, but his hands remained at his side. Mallory was about to threaten him again when both of their attentions were drawn to a soft whimpering coming from the bed.

 

"James?" Q whispered weakly, and in an instant, Mallory was forgotten on the sidelines.

 

Bond crossed over to the young man and stroked Q's hair gently before Mallory could protest _wait, that's not right, you were whipping the life out of him just minutes ago._ He watched as Bond murmured something that sounded like "novocaine?" and Q nodded in return before remembering what he was here to do.

 

"Double-oh seven," he began before Bond glared at him.

 

"Don't just stand there gaping. Go fetch us a warm washcloth from the loo."

 

_What the fuck is happening_ , thought Mallory in a daze before walking off to follow Bond's instructions.

 

When he returned, he stood in the doorway for a while and just observed them. Bond was spreading some kind of salve on the worst of Q's cuts and was whispering something to him in a surprisingly gentle voice. Q, for his part, simply lay there with his eyes closed, breathing deeply and leaning into Bond's touch. It was confusing. Why wasn't Q flinching away from him? Why wasn't Bond threatening him not to say anything that might further incriminate the agent?

 

He cleared his throat to announce his presence and Bond barely looked up, only reached out a hand for the washcloth. "He'd like some chamomile tea," he announced, running the small bit of cloth up Q's sweaty skin. Mallory stared in amazement as Q practically purred. What the hell was going on here?

 

The tea took a while to make, especially to Q's infamously finicky standards. So by the time he returned they had shifted positions again. Now Q was wrapped securely in a blanket and seated in double-oh seven's lap. His eyes were still closed and he looked as relaxed as a man who had been brutally whipped not an hour ago could look. For the first time since he'd barged in, Mallory began to feel like an intruder as he handed the tea over.

 

Bond took the cup with a nod of thanks, going so far as to raise the liquid to Q's lips. "I suppose you'd like an explanation?" he asked, with just a trace of dark humour.

 

"Bond, you have to understand what this looks like..."

 

The man had the audacity to roll his eyes as he pointed towards the bookcase in the corner of the room. "Second shelf, on the left. Educate yourself."

 

Feeling awkward and wrong-footed, Mallory edged his way to the bookcase, unable to look away from the strangely tender scene before him. Bond was supporting Q's entire body weight as the man leaned heavily and trustingly against him, letting him take small sips from the teacup without choking himself. It was positively domestic, and feeling an impending headache coming on from the sheer cognitive dissonance, Mallory glanced at the titles. He froze.

 

_Oh._

 

"The ABCs of BDSM?" he squeaked. Oh god, this was so so so none of his business.

 

Bond hummed in affirmation. "My personal favourite is 'Two Knotty Boys Show You The Ropes.'" He didn't seem embarrassed at all by the revelation, instead taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in Mallory's discomfort. Although, to be fair, it wasn’t as if the insufferable man ever looked anything less than smug.

 

"So...this is some kind of sex thing?"

 

"More of a lifestyle thing." Bond tugged down the blanket a little so Mallory could get a better look at the collar, kissing Q's hair as he whined in displeasure and tried to burrow down into the receding warmth. "Q belongs to me. There was a ceremony and everything. Sorry we didn't invite you, but well, we thought it'd be a tad awkward to let our boss see this aspect of our relationship." His eyes fixed on Mallory's pointedly.

 

Mallory had never blushed as much as he had then, not even when he was a new MI6 recruit and so nervous during orientation that he threw up on the then-M's shoes. "I saw you slap him in the storage room a few weeks ago and I was concerned," he admitted quietly.

 

"I can see how you'd get the wrong impression from that," Bond allowed with grace. "In my defence, I did warn Q that playing at work was a terrible idea."

 

The man in question snuffled quietly at Bond's chest in disdain, but otherwise didn't make a sound.

 

"Is he alright?" Mallory asked. The quartermaster was well-known for his sharp tongue. He had expected him to cut in with a snarky comment by now.

 

"He doesn't speak much after a scene. Even an interrupted one. If you’d like to make sure he’s okay, you can arrange another meeting with him when he’s back at work."

 

Considering how well the last one went, Mallory cringed at the thought of having another talk with Q. Especially after the recent...insights he'd gained into his sexual proclivities. He imagined asking Q how his back felt in the austere lights of his office and had to physically stop himself from tugging at his necktie like a schoolboy in trouble.

 

"That won't be necessary," he managed, infusing his voice with the authority gained from scolding double-oh agents like misbehaving children for a living. "Although, in the future I'd ask that you refrain from engaging in the more _adventurous_ aspects of your life in MI6 headquarters." Bond, the prick, obviously didn't buy his bravado, and simply shrugged in almost contemptuous amusement.

 

Right. It was high time he got out of there. Q was obviously well cared for, even if his relationship with Bond was a tad unconventional and something he really did not want to contemplate in any detail. "Well, I'll just see myself out now."

 

“Mallory?” Bond called before he could make his awkward escape. Drat. Then Bond was gently lowering Q's semi-conscious body to the sheets and walking towards him with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Mallory had a brief moment to wonder whether anyone would be able to recover his corpse if James Bond decided to brutally murder him now for interfering in his business before he continued.

 

“Thank you. For being concerned about Q. I’m glad he has someone looking out for him.”

 

Huh. That wasn’t what he’d expected at all. Still, it was better than death threats. “Oh, oh yes, double-oh seven. Quite.”

 

Bond smirked then as he opened the door for Mallory to exit through. “Goodnight, M. And next time, do try to give us some warning before you visit.”

 

Mallory sputtered as the door swung shut behind him, but an unwilling smile crept up as he began to make the trek home. After all, walking in on a nauseatingly in love Bond and Q was hardly the worst case scenario.

 

Even if he would need to bleach the entirety of the night from memory.

**Author's Note:**

> There is no actual abuse in the story. Mallory walks in on a consensual scene between Bond and Q and mistakes it for such. However, the language he uses could be triggering to those who have been affected by domestic violence so please please please tread with caution.
> 
> This might potentially become a series? I'm rather fond of the idea of Bond and Q being in a 24/7 D/s relationship.


End file.
